And Now Their Story Ends
by Frakme
Summary: *Deathfic* A follow on from "Two Grumpy Old Men". It is very angsty, be warned! You will very likely need a hanky. OMC/OFC, Trip Tucker, Malcolm Reed. Non-slash.


**Disclaimer : I own nothing her and I won't make a penny from this work.**

**It is a follow on from Two Grumpy Old Men, but where as that story was lighthearted, this is most definitely not. Hankies at the ready. *Deathfic***

* * *

Charlie and I watched as Trip wheeled into the home, grumbling. We saw Mrs Eckhart, the deputy manager, an uncharacteristically grim expression on her face.

"Don't you start on me, Mrs Eckhart!" he snapped. "It was that damn runner that caught my cane!"

He'd tripped on a carpet runner and broken his hip, while he and Malcolm had been doing yet another of their midnight raids on the kitchen.

"Admiral Tucker," she said, in a kindly voice, ignoring his ire. "Come with me, dear. I need to talk to you."

"Don't take long!" he said, directing the chair in her wake. "And why ain't Malcolm here to greet me! It was his idea to go for those peanut butter cookies!"

Mrs Eckhart didn't answer and it was with a growing fear that I entered the room after my husband and his dad, Charlie and I taking a seat on the hard chairs near the desk. She knelt down next to Trip and took his wrinkled hand.

"Dear, I need you to be brave," she said, in a tone one would use to humour a child. "I have some bad news."

I looked at Charlie and saw the fear I'd been feeling reflected in his eyes, then I looked at Trip, his eyes wide, still the bright blue of his youth.

"Is it Mal?" he whispered.

Mrs Eckhart nodded.

"I am so sorry, I'm afraid Admiral Reed passed away in his sleep last night."

"What?" Trip looked stunned as he tried to taken in the news. "No, I wasn't here! I shoulda been here!"

I put my arms around him to feel him shaking, Charlie looking numb with shock.

Eventually Trip pulled away from me.

"Can I see him? I need to see him one more time, please!"

"Admiral, I know this is hard for you but he's already at the morgue. A post mortem was carried out this morning… he'd had an aneurism. He wouldn't have suffered at all."

"Trip, wouldn't it be better to remember him as he was?" I said, gently.

He looked at me, tears staining his cheeks and I realised for the first time just how _old_ he is. I considered that Charlie and I were no longer young; last year, we celebrated my husband's fiftieth birthday, my own would be later this year. But whenever I saw Malcolm and Trip together, they never ever seemed old, just two boys full of mischief. I felt Charlie take my hand and looked at him, seeing his face filled with grief. Malcolm had been a big part of his life, he helped raised Charlie when Natalie dumped him on his father when he was three, the novelty of having the baby of the famous Charles Tucker III having worn off.

Charlie released my hand and hugged his Dad again as Trip quietly sobbed, an old, broken man. Mrs Eckhart looked at us sympathetically.

"I am sorry for your loss. Shall we take him upstairs to his room? I'll get Doctor Reynolds to come with a sedative for him."

I nodded, feeling numb. We got Trip into bed and stayed with him while the sedative took effect, Charlie holding his hand, until he drifted off to sleep.

"He used to do this with me," said Charlie, softly. "When I was small… he'd hold my hand until I fell asleep."

* * *

We went home and broke the news to Liza, our daughter. She hugged me and we both had a little cry. Together we called the boys, Jon and Robbie, to let them know. Malcolm didn't have any family, his sister died ten years ago, without having had any children; we were his family. So we spent the rest of the day telling people he knew about his death, receiving condolences and enquiries after Trip, each call breaking our hearts a little more.

"I don't think Dad's gonna be with us for long, Kathy," Charlie said sadly, as we got into bed. "I can't see him wanting to go on without Malcolm, they've been friends for so long. And you know his health ain't been too good lately."

I hugged him, wanting to reassure him but I couldn't do it with a lie. Trip had had two minor heart attacks in the past six months, but refused to listen to his doctors who kept telling him to slow down, because the next one could finish him off. 'I'll slow down when I'm dead!', he'd said.

"I know… sometimes I thought only Malcolm kept him going, even if he couldn't always keep him out of trouble!"

We chuckled softly as we recalled their many escapades. Both of us closed our eyes but it was a long time before we slept.

* * *

The news we'd been both dreading and expecting came less than forty eight hours later. Trip had had a massive heart attack. In accordance with his living will, he was not resuscitated. As much as we would miss him, part of me was glad he wouldn't be alone anymore.

When we'd seen him the previous day, his eyes were blank; the spark that had always been there had vanished, the blue now dull and lifeless. A part of him had already died with his dearest friend.

Since Trip had agreed to be his next of kin after his sister had died, it was easy enough to arrange a joint funeral for the two best friends. We laid them to rest together, close to the grave of Jonathan Archer, their former captain. It was mainly family and friends but we were pleased to see a few surviving members of the crew as well as T'Pol of Vulcan, with her bondmate and children. I was touched she had come, but then I saw her eyes, filled with sadness. I thought how it must be hard for her to see the shipmates she'd come to cherish wither and die while she lived on.

"I grieve with thee," she said to Charlie and me.

"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate you coming all this way for them. They would've liked you coming to say goodbye. They both spoke highly of you."

"I too held them both in high regard," she said. "They had a positive impact on your world and others as well. They had a fulfilling life."

Charlie smiled.

"I'm proud of my Dad, glad he and Malcolm got to grow old together." His voice broke and he paused briefly to gather his thoughts. "They cared for each other very much."

T'Pol nodded.

"I will take my leave of you," she said. "My family and I will be going to the consulate. If perhaps you wish to share some of the memories I have of the Admirals, I would be pleased if you would contact me there. I shall be there for the next two weeks."

"Thank you, that would be real nice of you," Charlie said. "You could come to the wake now, if you wish?"

"I do not wish to intrude and my family are strangers to you."

"Dad used to say there are no strangers, just friends you had yet to meet."

"Please, you've come all this way," I add. "Even if it is only an hour or two? I believe you do know a few people here?"

"Allow me to consult with my bondmate, but I cannot see him objecting."

We watched her move over to where her family stood and after a short conversation, she nodded at us. We gave her directions to our house, where everyone was gathering, and waited for everyone to leave. Liza had agreed to go ahead to let people in, so that her Dad and I could have a moment alone at the graveside.

"They did have a good life, didn't they?" Charlie said, as he looked at the grave. In a couple of days, the headstone would be erected. It would be a simple one, with their names, dates of birth and death, as well as an engraving of the NX-01 on it. "They experienced things we could never dream of."

I took my husband's and smiled at him.

"I don't think they could've asked for a better one."

**Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!" - Hunter S Thompson**


End file.
